


Support

by SharkGirl



Series: MichEmil/EmiMike Moments [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Budding Relationship, Cute, F/F, Fluff, M/M, MichEmil, Post-Canon, Sweet, implied kissing, sequel/continuation, Česky | Czech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkGirl/pseuds/SharkGirl
Summary: “Wait, on second thought,” Michele began, quickly spinning on his heel. “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t do this.” He tried to get away, but, as this was his third attempt since leaving the room, Emil was prepared and easily blocked him.A continuation of Comfort.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Since I've gotten so many nice comments and reviews on [Comfort](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8728663), I decided to make a continuation.  
> I hope you all like it!
> 
> Thanks, as always, to the amazing indevan, who put up with my first draft (which I didn't care for) and re-beta'd this story once I fixed it. You rock!
> 
> Please enjoy~

“Wait, on second thought,” Michele began, quickly spinning on his heel. “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t do this.” He tried to get away, but, as this was his third attempt since leaving the room, Emil was prepared and easily blocked him.

“You can’t change your mind. You already agreed,” he said, putting his hands on Michele’s shoulders and facing him back toward the elevator doors.  Honestly, he wasn’t sure how the other man even thought he’d escape from the lift in the first place.

“I just…I’m not ready,” Michele whined, burying his face in his hands.

“And when, pray tell, do you suppose you’ll muster up some readiness?” Emil raised his brows and cocked his head to the side.

“Well, I uh-”

“You already told Sara you’d go, so there’s no backing out.” When the elevator doors opened, Emil pushed him forward, Michele almost tripping. “Mind the gap,” he said and directed him toward their meeting place.

Their morning had been a hectic one.  Emil hoped that they would discuss what their kiss – and the several others that followed – had meant the night before.  But, instead of waking up in Michele’s embrace, he awoke to the other man pacing the floor, his cellphone to his ear as he argued in Italian with the person on the other end of the line.

Apparently, his parents had learned of Sara’s engagement and called to ask why he hadn’t told them.  One thing led to another and he was basically forced to agree to meet his sister and her fiancé for breakfast in the hotel’s lobby.

After getting him to take a shower – and then spending another twenty minutes coaxing him out of the locked bathroom – Emil lent Michele a change of clothes and marched him toward the elevators.  And now, as he followed behind him, he couldn’t help but appreciate the way his pants fit the other man, tight in the back and a little long in the leg.  And his shirt was just a bit loose on him.  The sight made something not unfamiliar twist pleasantly in his belly.

He looked good in Emil’s clothes.

Emil was so distracted, he didn’t notice when Michele came to a complete stop until he nearly bumped into him, his nose brushing the back of his head and the smell of shampoo filling his nostrils.  His shampoo.

“Oww.” Michele turned around and frowned at him.

“Sorry, Mickey.”

“It’s fine.” He sighed. “Where are we meeting them again?”

“The restaurant across from the indoor pool,” Emil answered. “The one with the breakfast buffet.”

“Like I can eat…” Michele lamented and continued walking forward.  Emil followed and fell in step beside him just as they passed the lobby’s large fountain.  And it was at that moment that he realized wrangling Michele had interrupted his usual morning routine and he found himself in desperate need of a restroom.

But he couldn’t leave Michele alone.  Not when the other man’s cold feet might completely freeze over and cause him to run off before Emil returned.  No.  He couldn’t leave him.  He had to think of something.

And, as if his prayer had been answered, he spotted a familiar head of glossy red hair.

“Mila!” he called out, startling the Russian figure skater, who seemed to be lost in thought.

“Oh, Emil. Mickey.”

“Thank goodness, a friendly face.” Emil pushed Michele forward and parked him right next to her.  “Could you keep an eye on him? I’m afraid I can’t hold it much longer.” He grinned and jerked a thumb toward the men’s room.

“Uh, sure, I guess I could-”

“Great! Be right back!” He called over his shoulder as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.  He was sure Michele wouldn’t run off on Mila.  At least, he hoped he wouldn’t.

 

 

Mila was still trying to digest what had just happened.  She’d been waiting for Sara to return from the bathroom, her mind filled with every which way their breakfast meeting might go, when Emil popped up out of nowhere and shoved the very man she’d been thinking about right into her personal bubble.

Now the two stood awkwardly beside each other, Michele looking down at his shoes and wearing clothes that seemed just a bit too big on him.

“So,” she began, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “How’s it going?”

“Not great,” he answered quickly, not bothering to face her.

“Oh.” She looked away, praying that Sara would return soon.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly, drawing her attention back to him. “I didn’t mean to snap, I’m just…” He sighed heavily. “I’m just kind of freaking out.”

“You?” she asked playfully, her lips curling up in a teasing smile before she could stop them.

“Yeah, yeah, big shock.” He laughed. He actually laughed. “I just…I’m not sure if you know or not, but Sara’s engaged.”

Mila stared at him with wide eyes, though his gaze was still averted.  Sara wasn’t kidding when she said she and her brother hadn’t discussed the subject at all.  He honestly had no clue.  He looked up at her, waiting for her response.

“Oh, right.” She cleared her throat, her hand automatically coming up to cover the ring on her finger. “Yeah, I know.”

His eyes widened a fraction and then he gave a sad smile. “I guess she _would_ tell her best friend everything.”

Best friend, huh?

“I think you still hold that position, Mickey.” She offered him a reassuring smile in return.

“I’m not so sure.” He turned to study the stitching of his leather shoes again. “I haven’t been a good brother lately. Let alone a good friend.”

Mila chewed on her bottom lip, unsure of how to continue.  She really didn’t want to do this without Sara.  She anxiously looked over the other’s bowed head, eyes scanning the lobby for any sign of the other woman.

“I just…couldn’t accept it, ya know?” Michele continued. “Her loving someone other than me.”

Mila turned to face him, finding a pair of violet eyes, the same beautiful color as Sara’s, staring up at her expectantly.  She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, meeting his gaze dead on.

“You know,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “Just because she loves someone else, it doesn’t mean she loves you any less, right?”  She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed the information.

“Really?”

Mila snorted, her tight muscles finally relaxing.  “Really.”  She placed a hand on his shoulder. “She loves you the most, you big dork.”

“Yeah…” He smiled to himself, his expression soft.

“Sorry for the wait!”

Mila's heart skipped a beat when she heard Sara’s voice.

“There was a line and—Mickey!” She gasped. “You two already-” but Mila shook her head. “Oh.”

“Sara, I,” Michele pulled away from Mila and grasped his sister’s hands in his. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

Sara blinked owlishly and then smirked, raising an eyebrow. “And…?”

“And.” He took a deep breath. “I’m ready to meet your fiancé.”

She glanced over his shoulder at Mila, who just shrugged.  How was she supposed to explain that the fact that they were engaged hadn’t come up?

“Well then.” Sara pulled her hands free from her brother’s grasp and stood beside her, taking Mila’s hand in hers.  It was cold.  She was still nervous. “Um, Mickey, I-”

“Where is he, anyway?” he asked, looking around.

“Seriously?” Sara whispered and Mila couldn’t help but snicker. “Mickey,” she caught her brother’s attention.

“Yes?”

“I know you’re not that dense, right?”

“What?” He furrowed his brow and then it hit him, his violet eyes going wide as he looked between the two of them, down at their joined hands and then back up. “You mean, the two of you are-”

“Hey, did I miss anything?” Emil asked cheerily, slinging an arm around Michele’s neck and leaning heavily on his shoulder. “Oh, hi, Sara.” He waved. “I’m looking forward to meeting your…” But then he lowered his gaze, his blue eyes large. “ _Můj bože_ , it’s Mila.”

“At least he caught on faster than Mickey,” Mila offered, giving Sara’s hand a squeeze before turning back toward the boys. “Shall we head to breakfast?”

 

 

Breakfast, Emil thought, had gone just about as well as it possibly could.  Michele had been tense at first, of course, but the moment Emil saw the other man’s hand twitching on his lap, fisting the fabric of his borrowed pants, he reached over and took Michele's hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.  That seemed to do the trick.

By the end of their meal, Michele was laughing, a bright smile on his face.  He hugged Sara and his soon-to-be sister-in-law and told them they’d cheer for them in the women’s singles that afternoon.  Then they excused themselves and headed back up to Emil’s hotel room.

The walk back was a lot quieter than Emil had expected.  In fact, Michele hadn’t spoken at all.  It was only when they were standing in front of the still closed door to his room that the other man broke the silence.

“I’m glad,” he said, a fond little smile on his lips.

“Yeah?” Emil asked, raising his brows.

“Yeah.” He dug the toe of his leather shoe into the thick carpet of the hallway. “Mila is a wonderful girl and she makes Sara happy and,” he paused, letting out a contented sigh. “I’m still Sara’s number one.”

“I’m pretty sure you would have been her number one, even if she was marrying a man.” Emil playfully shoved him and then reached into his pocket for his room key.

“Thank you, Emil,” Michele said, causing him to falter.  Emil turned, brow furrowed in confusion.

“For what?”

“For coming to breakfast with me,” he said and then added, “For making me go.”

“Well, I couldn’t let you stay in the shower all day.”

“I just…really appreciate it.” Michele reached out and took his free hand, lacing their fingers as he spoke.

Emil stared down at the warm, tan hand holding his and blinked. “What are friends for?” he replied, clearing his throat.

“About that.” Michele stepped closer, getting into his personal space which, apparently, he did not need to be drunk in order to do. “We didn’t really get a chance to talk this morning, but about last night…” he trailed off, his teeth coming out to worry at his lower lip.

Emil waited.  He knew that Michele needed time.  That, if he was patient, he’d open up.  Just like always.  But waiting, it seemed, proved quite difficult, especially while standing in the hallway where anyone could see them.

“Should we go inside?” he asked and Michele snapped his head up, his face bright pink. “Unless you’d rather-”

“No, no. That’s fine.” He swallowed and moved closer, leaning his head on Emil's shoulder as Emil tried – and failed – three times to get the door’s card reader to work, so he could gain them access.

“ _Sakra_ ,” Emil cursed under his breath as he willed the darn door to open.

“Let me.” Michele plucked the card from his fingers and easily slid it through the reader.  The little green light flashed twice, followed by the sound of the electronic lock releasing. “Here.” He handed the card back and Emil’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.  He couldn’t even open a _door?_

“Thank you, Mickey,” he mumbled, pocketing the card.

“What are boyfriends for?” Michele shrugged, the corners of his lips curving upwards.  Emil was so mesmerized by the motion and the reminder that those very lips had been on his not twelve hours earlier, he’d barely heard what he said.

“Wait.” His brain finally caught up. “Did you just…?”

“Well, yeah. After last night, I thought.” Michele flushed and cleared his throat. “That is…if you’ll have me.”

Emil have him?  Emil have _him_?  Seriously?  He was asking that?

“You know you can’t take it back,” he said, putting on his best serious face.  To his surprise, Michele didn’t blush or pout.  He just smiled, reaching up and tugging on the end of Emil’s short beard.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, _Barbacchiotto_.” He released him and walked into the hotel room.  Emil stared dumbly after him before snapping out of it and following him inside, shutting the door behind them.

 

Sometime later, when the two were getting ready to head down to the rink to watch the women’s free skate programs – with Michele still wearing his borrowed clothes, a look of which Emil was growing fonder and fonder – he asked, just to confirm.

“So, we’re boyfriends, yeah?”

Michele stopped tying his laces and looked up at him. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure you said ‘yes’ when I asked.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” Emil fussed, slipping on his own shoes. “And, if we’re boyfriends, that sort of makes me Sara’s brother-in-law, right?”

Michele slowly stood up and eyed him suspiciously. “I suppose.”

“Then, I wonder if she’ll ask me to be her best man,” he mused, fixing his beard in the mirror.

“Wait. No.” Michele held his hands out. “ _I_ should be her best man.”

“But, if you’re her best man, who’s going to give her away?” Emil asked, not noticing the metaphorical landmine he’d stepped on until he turned and saw all the color drain from his boyfriend’s face.

“Give her…away…?”

Ah, and he’d been doing so well, too.

“Emil…” Michele's lower lip quivered as tears began to fill his eyes.  Emil wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.  It was his job to comfort and support him.  After all, what were boyfriends for?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I used google translate again, so please let me know if anything sounds strange.
> 
> I actually wrote the breakfast scene and had it end after that, but I didn't like the way it ended, so I decided to skip it. If anyone is interested in the breakfast scene/alternate ending, let me know. I might share it on tumblr. It's got some cute MilaSara moments and features arguing in Italian.
> 
> Let me know what you think and hit me up on tumblr [@jubesy](http://jubesy.tumblr.com)!


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